


"Oh, For Heaven's Sake" (or, In Which Sharon Raydor Is Right Again)

by cptraydorsgf



Category: The Closer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 03:05:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/327074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cptraydorsgf/pseuds/cptraydorsgf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brenda/Sharon, smutty oneshot, post ep for "Star Turn."</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Oh, For Heaven's Sake" (or, In Which Sharon Raydor Is Right Again)

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for toys.

Oh for heaven’s sake. Brenda lets her head fall back against the wall and her eyes drift shut. Just when she starts to think she has truly seen it all, this train wreck of a case gets dropped into her lap. A woman killing her husband over a scam to promote their daughter’s first music video. Honestly. Brenda supposes she has heard worse reasons to kill somebody, but she’s hard pressed to think of any at the moment. It had almost been too easy getting the foolish woman to confess. Just give her a little attention, a little taste of fame and she’s confessin’ to a felony on video camera. If only it could be that easy to sniff out the leak in her division, to discover which one of her friends was sellin’ her out for whatever incomprehensible reason. Because Brenda knows there was a leak now, maybe she always knew even if she couldn’t admit it, just like Captain Raydor had said, first of course, all those months ago. And of course it would be Captain Raydor of all people, that woman, who realized there was a leak in the first place and who was workin’ full time to try to sniff out who it is. It would be Captain Raydor who ended up havin’ her back more than anyone and who was the only person out of everybody, including Fritzi she was a little bit ashamed to admit, who she had never suspected of being the leak for even a second. That woman who insisted on wearing those suits that-  
“Very impressive, Chief.” Brenda’s head snaps up off the wall and her eyes focus on the source of that slinky voice. Captain Raydor holds out a Twizzler as she approaches and Brenda takes it with a grateful bite. It isn’t the ding dong she wants, but it will do for now.  
“Thank you Cap’n.”  
“Gavin wants to see us, Chief. He’s finished reviewing Goldman’s offer.” Brenda slumps against the wall and stifles a groan. She just barely manages to avoid stomping her foot in frustration.  
“Right now?”  
“Yes, Chief, right now.” Raydor replies with exaggerated patience and grasps Brenda’s elbow, urging her away from the wall. It isn’t quite a huff that she makes as Raydor guides her along the corridor, but it’s close and a smile twitches at Raydor’s lips.  
Of course, Brenda thinks. Of course Goldman had some dirty, underhanded trick up his sleeve. Of course he wasn’t going to let her off so easy; of course this wasn’t going to be over. Oooh that cocky, arrogant, insipid, horrible rodent of a man!  
“I knew it.” Raydor whispers from beside her and Brenda bites back a groan. Of course she knew it; of course she was right again. Which meant, Brenda realizes suddenly, that by refusing to certify that agreement Raydor had seriously saved her ass. Her career, her future, her financial stability, her professional reputation, all of the things Goldman was trying to take from her with this lawsuit, Sharon had just protected. Again. Oh for heaven’s sake.

 

Brenda’s finger is inches from the doorbell when she pauses. She has absolutely no idea what she is doing here and absolutely no idea how she will explain herself, provided Captain Raydor gives her the chance to do so before throwing her out and lecturing her about showing up unannounced at peoples’ homes at, she glances down at her watch, eleven o’clock at night. That is, unless she wakes the woman up, and the Captain decides to just shoot her. She draws her finger back. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. She had no idea what she wants from the Captain and the last thing she needs is those deep green eyes staring at her behind those designer glasses like she’s a complete lunatic. Oh for heaven’s sake. Brenda huffs, re-adjusts her purse and forcefully presses and holds the doorbell. She is a Deputy Chief with the LAPD and if she sees it necessary to speak with a co-worker at a late hour, well then, that was just how things were going to be. She does outrank the woman after all and- “Chief Johnson.”  
Oh. Oh my. Sharon Raydor clearly wasn’t sleeping because she is still wearing make-up, those glasses and her infuriatingly perfect hair is still styled. The pearls and power suit are gone, however, replaced by a soft looking knit tank top that appears to have been made for Raydor’s body, as it clings to absolutely every inch of her torso, and loose fitting cotton pants. The feet that Brenda is so accustomed to seeing in those lethal heels are bare, with deep mauve toenails. She waits patiently for Brenda to appraise her, head cocked to the side. “I’m sorry if I’m botherin’ you.” Brenda finally says and the corner of Raydor’s mouth twitches.  
“Not at all, Chief. Is everything alright?”  
“I-” She realizes she is staring at Sharon’s toenails and quickly brings her eyes up. It is only because she has come to know the Captain as well as she has that she sees the brief flicker of amusement in the older woman’s eyes. She is enjoying throwing Brenda off balance. Some things never change. “I think so, yes.” Brenda nods definitively. “Fine, Captain.” That is clearly all Brenda is going to say so Sharon sighs and opens the door.  
“Would you like to come in, Chief?” Sharon may not have any idea why Brenda is here, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want her to be. She thinks.  
Brenda follows Sharon through the foyer and living room, unabashedly taking in everything she can. The house is classy and elegant, like Sharon herself, Brenda muses. She decorated in lots of black and silver, with deep greens, rich purples and dark blues. The couch is leather and the armchair looks like the softest thing she has ever seen. Brenda notices there is no television in the living room and she imagines that the pieces of art lining the walls are probably actually by real artists. Her kitchen is incredibly modern, all sharp angles and stainless steel appliances and granite countertops. Brenda rolls her eyes when she sees that the countertop is perfectly wiped clean of crumbs and that there isn’t a single dirty dish in the sink.  
“Would you like a guided tour, Chief?” Sharon asks, an undercurrent of teasing in her formality.  
“That’s quite alright, but I would just love a glass of wine if you have some.” Brenda fires back. Sharon smirks full on this time, but her eyes are twinkling and she reaches into her fridge.  
A glint in her peripheral vision catches her eye and Brenda turns to see a neat desk tucked into a corner, bills stacked in one corner and the pens all re-capped. She thinks of her own desk and wants to sigh. She picks up the picture frame that had caught her eye and studies the photograph within. Sharon is smiling, but not in that cocky smirky way she always does at work and not in the way she always used to smile at Brenda, when she was forcing politeness to hide disbelief, discontent and distrust. And not that smile she had seen her flash at Pope this afternoon, that smile that let him know she was right and he was wrong and she damn well knew it and was enjoying it. She had briefly wondered what that had been about, but decided she was probably happier not knowing. But the Sharon in this photograph is smiling genuinely and sincerely and the effect it has on her face is remarkable. The smile lights her up, makes her eyes sparkle and her skin glow and she looks so happy that Brenda can’t help but think she should smile like this more often. She has one arm around a young woman who Brenda knows must be her daughter because she is Sharon in miniature, right down to the sparkling green eyes, curve of her cheekbones, long shiny hair and that Mona Lisa smile. The boy on her other side must be her son, Brenda thinks, and he must look like his father. He has much darker skin and deep brown eyes.  
Sharon clears her throat softly behind her and offers her the glass of wine she had requested. Brenda takes it and offers the picture to the Captain, wondering briefly if she has gone too far by touching something this personal, but Sharon just smiles. “Your children?” She asks and Sharon nods, taking a sip of her own wine.  
“Where are they?” Brenda asks softly.  
“Nora is back in New York, in law school at NYU and Ethan is stationed at Fort Hood right now, in Texas.” Brenda’s lips quirk up at the expression on Sharon’s face. She looks so proud but like she’s trying not to show it.  
“Do you get to see them often?” Sharon sighs and drags her fingers through her hair.  
“Not as often as I would like. Chief, what are you doing here?” It is the question Brenda has been trying to answer in her own head for the last ten minutes.  
“You never call me ‘Brenda’.” She says instead.  
“I’m sorry?” Raydor looks sincerely baffled.  
“You always call me ‘Chief,’ never just ‘Brenda’.” Sharon sighs, just a little bit impatient.  
“If I recall correctly, it is at your request that I…remember I am a subordinate officer when addressing you.” Oh, honestly, how can Sharon remember the exact words Brenda spoke to her over two years ago? She has the good grace to blush, though, recalling their first conversation. Pulling rank to cover up how unsettled the other woman had made her was not her finest moment. Especially considering the Captain probably knew exactly how flustered she had been.  
“Yes, well,” Brenda waves her hand dismissively.  
Sharon narrows her eyes in that way she does that lets the person on the receiving end of that stare know that she knows something and that she will stand there and wait them out for years if necessary and Brenda throws her hands up. “Oh for heaven’s sake, Cap’n! I’m tryin’!”  
“What are you trying to do…Brenda?” Sharon asks quietly.  
“I’m tryin’ to…to be…nice. You really had my back today. Not certifyin’ that agreement.”  
“If that’s your way of saying ‘thank you,’ you’re welcome.” Brenda resists the urge to stomp her foot, again. Oh! That horribly impossible woman! Raydor’s lips quirk up in the barest hint of her trademark smirk and Brenda realizes in that moment that Raydor might actually be teasing.  
“Well, if today was your way of apologizin’ for that terrible audit, then consider it accepted.” Brenda fires back. Sharon barks out a laugh and smiles then. It’s not quite the smile she is wearing in the photograph but it’s close to it. Brenda is struck by how it causes her eyes to eyes to light up and the corners of her mouth to crinkle. She realizes suddenly that this is Sharon she is seeing now, not Captain Raydor, with her dry humor and cozy pajamas and Brenda briefly thinks this woman is somebody she might be able to like. Though, if she were being honest with herself, Captain Raydor was somebody she might be starting to like, too, just a little. The woman was certainly far too rigid and inflexible, far too dependent on her little rulebook but she was also incredibly sharp, very dedicated, fiercely loyal even if you couldn’t always tell it at first and a great asset to the LAPD, despite her different way of doing things. And after all, Brenda understands what it means to be a little different.  
“You’re staring Chief.” Sharon informs her dryly and Brenda startles; her eyes had indeed been wandering up and down the Captain’s body, studying her. Sharon didn’t seem to mind, though. At least, she hadn’t crossed her arms or made a waspish comment, which is surely what Brenda would have done if anyone had taken such liberties to look at her like that.  
“Well, you usually match.” Brenda says and she sounds defensive, though she isn’t quite sure why she would need to be.  
“I didn’t know you paid such close attention to my clothes, Chief.” Sharon retorts smoothly and Brenda desperately fights her inclination to blush. “Although,” she continues evenly, “I will admit that this,” she gestures towards Brenda’s charcoal blazer and skirt, “is…” Raydor trails off, allowing her eyes to follow the same path of Brenda’s form that Brenda’s took over hers. “Flattering.” She finishes finally. Brenda blinks. Surely, she misinterpreted the timbre of Raydor’s voice. Surely the woman didn’t just...flirt with her?  
“Well, thank you Captain. It’s always nice to know my efforts are appreciated.” Did Brenda just flirt back? She fights the urge to clamp a hand over her mouth.  
“Chief.” Raydor’s voice is impossibly husky, dripping with sensuality and promise. That one word sounds like fire and Brenda can’t help but react to the sheer want in the other woman’s tone. She is instantly warm all over.  
Where did this come from? How could she not have seen this? How could she not have known? But, that irritating little voice in the back of her mind whispers, you did. Brenda bites her lip; she knows herself better than to think this is a surprise. She remembers how her breath had caught in her throat the first time she saw the Captain, all sleek hair and long legs, brush past her in the emergency room to focus on Gabriel. She had known that terrible, horrible red dress she had donned for her interview with the mayor had really been for Raydor. She spent hours choosing it just for that moment of slack jawed appreciation she had received from the Captain upon seeing her in it. The smoldering look in the older woman’s eyes, quickly concealed, had left her uncomfortably hot and embarrassingly wet during her entire interview. And Brenda is far too good at her job to have not recognized by now that every day she huffs “that woman” is followed by a night of the best, wildest sex with her husband. Though she hadn’t had any idea that Sharon evidently had the same type of reaction to her, if her darkened eyes were any indication.  
“You should go, Chief.” Raydor’s speech is clipped and precise, the way it gets when she is holding back and Brenda feels a little thrill that the always in control Captain is like this because of her.  
“Why is that, Captain?” She challenges, because she can’t resist pushing her, just a little bit. Raydor’s eyes narrow, studying her, evaluating her, and Brenda feels the flush on her cheeks spread down her neck, then her chest before disappearing underneath the jacket that suddenly feels too heavy.  
“I find myself…confused.” Brenda didn’t think it was possible for the woman’s voice to get any lower. “And I would hate for any…misunderstandings…to negatively impact our professional relationship, as tenuous as it is.”  
“Misunderstandings, Captain?” Brenda licks her lower lip despite herself. “And here I am, thinkin’ we’re finally startin’ to understand each other.” Sharon hums low in her throat, that sound she is always making that causes Brenda to wonder what other sounds she might make. She slides her body along the side of the island, her movements startlingly graceful, to stalk towards Brenda. Brenda is struck by the sudden, absurd urge to back away but stands rooted to the spot. Sharon pauses right before her body makes contact with Brenda’s, but not before Brenda can feel the heat radiating off of her and smell the light scent of her perfume.  
“And what is it that you’re starting to understand…Brenda?” A bolt of heat shoots through Brenda’s body as she watches her name fall from Sharon’s lips, those incredibly soft looking, full lips, the woman caressing the two syllables with her tongue.  
“I-” It is all Brenda can choke out before her voice fails her and she has to swallow against the lust rising within her.  
“Brenda.” Sharon whispers again, in that voice like molasses, and Brenda has to consciously hold back her whimper. “You should leave.” It sounds like a warning, a last chance and Brenda knows she should. She should turn around and walk out the front door right now, go home to her husband and try to forget every fantasy she has ever had about that awful woman and her horrible short little skirts. But she won’t; she couldn’t move even if she wanted to, not when her Captain Raydor is looking at her like she is making a mental list of all the deliciously sinful things she is going to do to her. And God, Brenda wants them, all of them, like she wants chocolate.  
“Sharon.” The woman’s given name rolls off her tongue without her consent and it seems to be what she was waiting for because then Brenda is being kissed like she has never been kissed in her life.  
Sharon’s lips are exquisitely, amazingly soft, but hard and demanding against her own. She takes Brenda’s mouth firmly and nips at her lower lip. Brenda gasps in surprise and Sharon presses her tongue between Brenda’s parted lips and then she is everywhere, tasting and searching the younger woman’s mouth, stroking her tongue and licking behind her teeth. Sharon grasps the younger woman’s hips and pulls their bodies together, delving deeper into Brenda’s mouth. It takes Brenda a moment to recover from the avalanche of sensations assailing her, but when her brain catches up to her body, she is kissing Sharon back, meeting her searching tongue with her own and stroking it firmly. Her lips yield to Sharon’s and part under the probing of her tongue. She allows her Captain to take her mouth and rests her hands on the other woman’s hips. Sharon grabs Brenda’s hands and pulls them from her body, bringing them behind Brenda’s back and holding them there. Brenda briefly struggles against the hold, but instantly relaxes when Sharon nips at her chin and trails biting kisses down her throat. She reaches her pulse point and sucks it between her lips, nibbling on the sensitive skin there and Brenda feels herself swoon into Sharon. Sharon commands her body, as if she owns it, as if she controls it and Brenda whimpers helplessly as her Captain’s hot mouth traces her collar bones.  
Sharon presses her hips more firmly into the Chief, amazed at how pliant and willing the blonde is against her. She had expected Brenda to fight her, to try to take control with harsh biting kisses and rough touches, to struggle against whatever this thing is between them, but Brenda lets Sharon claim the delicate flesh of her throat and flexes her spine, offering more of herself. Sharon wants everything Brenda will give, needs to make her hers tonight. As Brenda gasps and sighs Sharon thinks maybe the other woman needs this just as much.  
The woman’s hands are on her jacket now, nimbly undoing the buttons and Brenda briefly wonders that she had unconsciously kept her hands behind her back, just where Sharon placed them. Sharon drags the blazer down and off and splays her hands possessively across the bare flesh of Brenda’s upper chest. She brings her warm palms down and over, up Brenda, tracing all the lines and curves of her torso. With a sharp bite to Brenda’s collarbone, she is tugging at her waist, pulling her, Brenda realizes dizzily and she stumbles when trying to follow Sharon. Anywhere, she thinks mindlessly.  
Anywhere is Sharon’s bedroom and Brenda can’t even look around and observe the Captain’s space before she is pressed hard against a wall and her mouth is taken again. Sharon kisses like she argues, passionately, swiftly, efficiently and lethally. Brenda is swimming in a haze of desire as her Captain plunders her mouth, taking and tasting each whimper and moan and cry. Her nails rake up Brenda’s back underneath her camisole and Sharon breaks their kiss just long enough to pull it over her head. Brenda reaches out for Sharon, to feel her skin, to twine her fingers in that luscious hair, but Sharon grabs her hands again and lifts them over her head, pressing them against the wall. Brenda writhes against Sharon’s body, arching and twisting, desperate to feel the other woman, desperate to reach out and touch but Sharon just chuckles, low and dangerous. Brenda feels her body react to the sound; her nipples harden almost painfully underneath the cotton fabric of her bra and a gush of wetness soaks her underwear. It has never been like this before, with anyone. Brenda would have remembered it being like this.  
“You don’t have to be in control here, Chief.” Raydor murmurs in her ear, suckling softly at the lobe. Brenda whimpers and shifts her hips. Oh God, how did Sharon know? Sharon kisses back down her neck, but the pauses and drags her hot mouth back up to Brenda’s ear. In an uncharacteristic display of softness, she strokes Brenda’s thigh through her skirt, the slightest brush of fingertips. “Let me, Brenda Leigh.” Her whisper is softer this time and it is still a command, but an imploring one, Raydor’s version of a plea. Brenda understands this is how Sharon asks permission. Brenda relaxes against her Captain and nuzzles her neck with her nose, hoping Sharon understands this is her way of giving consent. This is what Brenda has been wanting, after all. When Sharon releases her hands to reach around and unsnap her bra, Brenda leaves them above her head, knowing how perfectly the submissive posture will display her breasts. Sharon makes a noise that sounds remarkably like a growl in the back of her throat and cups Brenda’s exposed breasts, squeezing and massaging before dipping her head to suck an erect nipple into her mouth. Sharon’s head spins as her mouth closes around Brenda’s bud and she feels it stiffen further against her tongue. Her mouth is wet and warm and Brenda moans shamelessly. Sharon’s hands grasp her hips and her thumbs trace her skin. Sharon drags the zipper of Brenda’s skirt down and pushes the material to the floor. With a firm pinch to Brenda’s nipple, Sharon kneels down before her and Brenda shudders at the implications of that while unconsciously parting her legs.  
Sharon hooks her thumbs into the waist of Brenda’s underwear and tugs them down her legs, trailing teasing fingertips back up her thighs. Her Chief is gorgeous, though Sharon will never tell her that, flushed and wanting above her and so delightfully compliant. Sharon reaches around to grasp at the woman’s delicious ass, pulling her closer and Brenda’s traitorous body obeys immediately, searching for the heat of Sharon’s mouth. Sharon immediately covers Brenda’s swollen sex with her mouth, bathing her in warm breath and Brenda screams. It’s too much too soon and it’s so. Fucking. Good. Sharon licks her firmly, dragging her tongue through saturated folds and tracing it along puffy lips. She swirls and flutters that amazing muscle up to Brenda’s clit and sucks the throbbing bead into her mouth, lashing it with her tongue and sucking. Brenda sobs her pleasure, unaware that she is crying out and moaning and pleading as Sharon devours her. Sharon drags her teeth along Brenda’s clit and presses her tongue as deep into the other woman as she can reach and with a hoarse cry Brenda is immediately coming. Her climax rips through her sharp and brutal, just a little bit painful and Brenda grabs a hold of Sharon’s hair and holds her wonderful mouth against her spasming sex, riding out her release against the woman’s face. Sharon laps at her, tasting her sweet nectar, and presses little kisses to her curls.  
“Ohh, God.” Brenda slumps against the wall and Sharon hums against her, that sound she is always making, and it triggers a slight aftershock and another pulse of moisture that Sharon licks up and swallows. “I, I’ve never…that…Cap-Sharon.” Sharon smiles against her, pressing an achingly soft kiss to her folds and stands, brushing Brenda’s mussed hair out of her eyes. Sharon isn’t even disappointed that Brenda came so quickly because it only means the woman needed her that damn much and she is far from finished anyway.  
Sharon steadies a still blissed out Brenda Leigh and helps her stumble to her bed, urging her to lay back. Brenda’s eyes are still shut and her breath still comes in pants, lost in the afterglow of her orgasm. Sharon props herself up on her side and trails lazy fingers up and down Brenda’s torso, swirling them around still hard nipples and dipping them gently into the cleft between parted legs. Brenda’s sensitive muscles jump and twitch and Sharon studies her with keen eyes. She’s a goddess, resplendent and satisfied, glowing with the pleasure Sharon gave her. When Brenda’s muscles stop seizing, Sharon dares to dip further between her legs, coating two fingers in thick sticky wetness and rubbing Brenda lightly. The blonde’s eyes fly open and settle on her Captain through a haze of bliss.  
“Sharon?” She asks, looking adorably confused. Sharon just hums again and strokes firmer between Brenda’s legs. Brenda’s eyes flutter shut and her legs fall further apart. She doesn’t know if she can take more yet, but her body demands Sharon’s fingers on her, in her, demands more of Sharon. Sharon traces Brenda’s opening, exciting the nerve endings there, before pressing a single finger up and inside of Brenda. She curls it expertly and Brenda’s hips surge up to meet her. Her Chief is incredibly warm and wet and tighter than Sharon expected; she briefly wonders how long it has been since Brenda has had sex, has allowed herself this release. She twists and crooks her finger, stimulating all of the silky skin inside Brenda and learning the shape of her. Brenda makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat and grasps the sheet in her hand, clenching it tightly. Sharon slips another finger deeply inside and Brenda clenches tightly around them, holding them inside of her. Sharon stills them, allowing Brenda to get used to the feel of her, rubbing gently at her g-spot and brushing her thumb over her hooded clit. Brenda arches under her, lifting herself off the bed before shuddering and collapsing, melting underneath Sharon’s gentle rhythm. Sharon scissors her fingers and Brenda cries out, thrusting against her, trying to force Sharon deeper inside of her. Sharon moans in pleasure at Brenda’s wanton response and brings a third finger to play at Brenda’s entrance.  
“Oh fuck, please! Please Sharon.” Brenda moans and Sharon obligingly presses the finger into Brenda, thrusting deeply into liquid heat. “Yesss,” Brenda sighs and Sharon thrusts faster and harder into her and Brenda meets her every time. Sharon flicks at Brenda’s nipple and sucks it back into her mouth, nibbling on it gently. Brenda keens beneath her, writhing on her hand.  
“You like this.” Sharon husks against Brenda’s breast. “You like me inside of you.” It isn’t a question, but Brenda can’t help but respond. That voice, that smooth velvet voice does things to her and she longs to hear more of it.  
“Yes,” she moans, eyes still squeezed shut. “Feels,” she grunts and bears down harder on Sharon’s fingers. “Feels so good, havin’ you like this.” Sharon murmurs nonsense agreement against Brenda’s sweat slicked skin and abruptly pulls her fingers out of her. Brenda cries out at the loss, her body suddenly bereft and achingly empty. Her eyes snap open. “Nooo, Sharon, please!” She nearly sobs with the loss.  
“I’ve got you, Brenda.” Sharon cooes, but she is getting off the bed, walking away from Brenda. She can’t possibly be this cruel, not even Captain Raydor would leave her here like this after loving her in the most intimate way possible, her Sharon wouldn’t leave her wanting like this when-  
Sharon is rummaging through the bottom drawer of her dresser and she evidently finds what she’s looking for because she turns back to Brenda. Absurdly, Brenda realizes that her Captain is still completely dressed and she must remedy that immediately. She is sure the body Sharon hides under those geometrical suits is beautiful and Brenda wants to discover every inch of it with her hands and her mouth.  
Sharon is stalking back towards Brenda and it is only then that Brenda notices what is in her hands. It’s, at least Brenda thinks it is, a strap on. Her eyes widen. Seeing her Captain, mussed from making her come, clutching the flesh colored toy in her perfectly manicured nails sends a shock of heat to her core and produces an answering flood of wetness. But she bites her lip, she isn’t sure if…she isn’t sure…  
But Sharon seems to be. She tosses the toy onto the bed and whips her tank top off. Brenda only has a moment to appreciate the full, firm breasts and rosy nipples before Sharon is shoving her pants down over her hips and off. Brenda gasps as all of Sharon is revealed to her hungrily searching eyes. She’s beautiful, all lush curves and soft skin and Brenda aches to explore her, find all the spots on her incredible body that would make her moan Brenda’s name. But Sharon doesn’t allow Brenda to revel in her nakedness; she steps into the harness and with amazing efficiency tightens the straps and settles the toy snugly against herself.  
“Sharon…” Brenda bites her lip. She briefly thinks she should be more nervous than she is, but Sharon Raydor climbing into bed wearing nothing but a strap on has to be the sexiest thing she has ever seen. And she wants this. She needs this. And she knows her Captain will take care of her.  
“Brenda.” Sharon responds and settles between Brenda’s legs. Brenda feels the toy nudge her and she whimpers softly. It’s good and hard and firm and Brenda wants more. Sharon drags the toy through her folds, coating it in her arousal and tugging Brenda’s leg up to her hip. Brenda gets her hint and wraps her legs around her Captain’s waist, opening all of herself to Sharon, who greedily drinks her in. She is slick and puffy, swollen and clearly ready. Sharon pushes two fingers inside her Chief and strokes her clit, feeling her tight walls easily accept her. She watches Brenda’s face contort with pleasure and then loss as she pulls her fingers out, then anticipation as she brings the toy back to her entrance. She pushes ever so slightly forward and Brenda’s eyes lock on hers. Sharon slowly pushes the length of the toy into Brenda’s welcoming heat and Brenda moans long and low as she feels Sharon join them. The stretch on her muscles is delicious, a low throbbing burn and the pressure inside of her is exquisite. Brenda moans in unashamed delight as Sharon’s eyes flutter shut in pleasure. “Chief.” She whispers, awestruck, because she never thought it would be like this. She knew they would be incredible together, knew that their strong feelings about one another would translate into incendiary passion in the bedroom, but in all her fantasies it had never been this…much. The Chief had never been so soft, so willing, so intimate. And Brenda’s body clenches because damn it’s hot to hear Sharon use her rank when they’re like this. To hear her Captain call her Chief when there is no animosity, no hostility, when the woman is buried completely inside of her and naked on top of her. And the little thrill it sends through her that this is her subordinate officer, the woman investigating her unit, the one person she shouldn’t sleep with more than anybody else she shouldn’t sleep with, and yet here they are. Because Raydor couldn’t resist her. Raydor couldn’t stop herself. That makes her feel powerful and Brenda tightens her muscles against the shaft inside her and wraps her legs firmer around Sharon’s hips.  
“Captain.” Brenda drawls, voice dripping in honey into Sharon’s ear and her hips jerk involuntarily, forcing the toy deeper into Brenda and eliciting a sharp cry of ecstasy. “More.” She husks and Sharon shifts and rests on her hands, peaked nipples just brushing the Chief’s breasts and tosses her hair over her shoulder. She starts a slow, lazy rhythm, pulling almost completely out of Brenda’s clenching body and pushing fully and deeply inside. She watches Brenda’s face as she rocks into her, watching the pleasure and bliss overtake her features and drinking in her soft, whimpered moans. She drags her body against Brenda’s, ensuring every inch of their skin touches as she moves libidinously. It’s been awhile since she has gotten out her toy, but her body remembers how it needs to move and Sharon abandons herself to the sensation of writhing in perfect rhythm with her Chief.  
Sharon thrusts faster and harder, spurred on by Brenda’s cries of pleasure. The woman is amazing, free and unashamed in her pleasure, letting Sharon see everything she’s feeling, holding nothing back. She captures the blonde’s mouth and drinks desperately from her lush lips, plunging her tongue into her mouth and mimicking the motion of their lower bodies. Brenda thrusts her hips harder against her Captain’s, taking everything she can and crying out as Sharon hits that spot inside her that always sends her flying.  
Sharon knows Brenda is close, can hear it in her choked moans, her incoherent pleas and can feel it in the way she meets Sharon thrust for thrust. The pressure of Brenda moving against her presses the base of the toy against her just right and she shudders in pleasure. It’s too much, the slip of the toy against her aching clit and the knowledge that it’s Chief Johnson she is stroking inside of, she is driving to bliss, who is begging her for more. She knows when she hits Brenda’s spot and she repeats the slight twist at the end of her stroke inside the younger woman.  
“Yes!” Brenda cries out and writhes beneath her. “Oh Sharon right there!” Sharon rolls her hips with abandon, giving Brenda every inch of the toy, giving her blonde Chief everything she can. She feels a droplet of sweat trail down between her breasts and Brenda’s heels dig into her back.  
Sharon is close, so close; she won’t last and she desperately reaches down between their bodies to unerringly stroke Brenda’s clit. Brenda keens, a wordless cry of ecstasy and as Sharon rubs tight circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves, Brenda shatters and comes with a loud scream. Sharon swears she can feel the younger woman’s muscles clenching and releasing, contracting around the toy buried deep inside her and the sensation tips Sharon over the edge, thrusting deeply into Brenda one last time and coming hard with her, stars exploding behind her eyes and Brenda’s name falling in desperate cries from her kiss swollen lips.  
Moments that feel like hours later, limbs heavy with bliss and exhaustion, Sharon comes back to herself to the feeling of being cradled in Brenda Leigh’s body, of being held between her shaking thighs. She goes to raise her body off Brenda, but Brenda clenches her thigh muscles and the muscles holding the toy inside of her. “Stay.” She whispers, wrapping her arms around Sharon’s back and Sharon shifts to take some of her weight off her. The move causes the toy to shift inside of Brenda and send waves of pleasure through her aching, sensitive core. She moans, almost joyfully, and Sharon raises her eyebrow. Softly, as not to overstimulate, Sharon moves her hips forward, and presses the toy completely inside of Brenda to her surprised gasp and sharp nails raking down her back. Sharon reaches down to where they are joined and rubs swiftly over Brenda’s pulsing clit. Three soft strokes and the woman is bowing under her, shivering and trembling through her climax, clutching Sharon tightly and chanting her name. Sharon watches her with rapt attention, the way her eyes squeeze shut, all her muscles tense and the way she captures her lower lip between her teeth to muffle her screams. The sounds of her pleasure echo in Sharon’s ears as she kisses her lightly. Brenda sighs against her mouth and falls back to the bed, wincing as the toy still deeply embedded in her jostles. Sharon carefully raises her body off Brenda, who is supine and still in the aftermath of their coupling, and slips the toy slowly and gently from her. Brenda makes a quiet nose of displeasure as the fullness leaves her body, but stills again. Sharon tosses it absentmindedly to the floor, where she will retrieve and clean it later, and collapses back next to her Chief. Brenda’s legs are still wrapped around her waist and she rolls with her, settling against Sharon’s side and burrowing into her warmth. Sharon presses firmer against the semi-conscious woman in her arms and lets her fingers sift through blonde hair. There is so much they should say, so much they should talk about, but as Brenda presses a kiss to the soft skin of her chest and whispers “so good” against her flesh, Sharon thinks that uncomfortable conversation can wait until the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, criticisms and reviews appreciated!


End file.
